Between the Anvil and the Hammer
by A Natural Nomad
Summary: Set after the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual Anders x OC. Yes, it's one of those fics.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**

Dragon Age I and II belong to Bioware.

All the copyrights associated with the world and characters of Dragon Age belong to them.

Only the ideas contained within this story are my property.

This is just for fun, not profit.

**Synopsis:**

Follows the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual AndersxOC. Yes, it's one of _those_ fics.

OoOoOoOo

_Chapter 1_

_They were getting ready to move past the hill when they were attacked; an arrow, barely missing his shoulder, lodged in the rotten tree trunk they had just been sitting on.  
"Run!" She grabbed his hand and they took flight towards the forest outskirts, shrill voices running after them in the dark.  
He was panting. "Let us face them!"  
"No, we have no chance to-" she abruptly screamed. He turned his head and saw, to his horror, a black arrow lodged in her back. "RUN!"  
Feet flying, he ran for the trees like a madman._

_OoOoOoOo_

The Merdaine loomed over the silent hills, bathed in the rosy light of dawn. The colossal ivory statue of Andraste, still capping the mountain, reached up to the sky, hands perpetually raised in silent prayer. The air was cold and clear. Anders shivered with in his linen robes and sat up, spitting straw.

"_Guot morgan," _said a gruff voice to his left, over the creaking of the old wooden vehicle. He hurriedly put on his coat and turned to face the carriage driver, replying in the language of his childhood, "_How long have I slept_?"

The old man's missing teeth showed as he grinned. "Your Anderfelian is horrendous, boy. Stick to what you know."

"Rest breeds rust, as they say, _Herr_. Are we close to Nordbotten?"

"We'll enter the city with the sun. Catch some sleep while you can. You've been twisting and groaning for a while now."

Anders groaned in answer and half laid down again in the small carriage, looking at the landscape, his aching muscles complaining.

The old villager had reminded him of what Varric used to tell him_. "Catch some sleep while you can, Blondie. Dream happy dreams of templars boiling in oil."_

He found it hard to believe it had only been two months since he last saw the dwarf, or lost at Wicked Grace to Isabella at the Hanged Man. Damn it, he even missed Fenris. As for Hawke... he tried to avoid thinking about the last time they spoke. "Just go," he'd said.Anders had never dared hope he'd still be alive, not after what he did. And now they were all as good as dead to him. _So many lives lost… for what?_ He felt Justice -no, _Vengeance_- stir in him and shivered again, gazing at the bleak hills. They held no answers.

OoOoOoOo

He had been but a boy when he last saw Nordbotten. He remembered clutching his mother's hand, wide eyes drinking in the market stalls, the air full of the tantalizing smells of spices and roasted meat. As an adult, however, he was less than impressed. This was a city full of sun baked streets, filthy beggars and gray, forbidding walls. Well, the constant threat of famine and darkspawn might also have something to do with the dampening of the general mood, he mused as he entered the inn the old driver directed him to.

Once again in an unfamiliar place, yet he was greeted by the too familiar sight of blood. An injured boy was lying on a table, his breast rising in uneven staccato breaths. His left shoulder was a mess. A woman with curly dark grey hair was clutching his hand and crying her eyes out. Anders sighed and went close. "I'm a healer," he said to the room, "how can I help?"

OoOoOoOo

They forced everyone but the boy's mother out and closed the heavy pine door, while Anders rolled his sleeves and got to work. Treating the boy without revealing his magic would be a challenge. He bade the innkeeper, a thin-lipped older woman, to boil water in the hearth and bring clean sheets. While applying pressure to the shoulder, he felt for any disturbances in the boy's energy signature. Ah, there it was; he could see something in his mind's eye, a foreign object, appearing as a sickly green blot, stuck close to the boy's clavicle. He would need to remove it as fast as possible in order to properly clean and dress the wound. He placed his dagger over the fire and grabbed a bottle of cheap wine, seemingly forgotten at a nearby table. He poured some over the wound, wincing when the boy screamed. Muttering under his breath, Anders sent him into a state of semi sleep, saying to the woman, "He's fallen into shock." Using the dagger as a prop, Anders willed the foreign object to come out through the least resistant path, praying the innkeeper wouldn't understand the deception. He held his breath while digging as little as possible with the tip of the knife, until a small piece of metal fell in his lap with a _plop._ He wrapped it with a piece of cloth and put it in his pocket to examine later. He could feel the silent innkeeper's eyes on him.

OoOoOoOo

"He will recover," he told the boy's mother in Anderfelian while washing his hands.

She nodded, soft sobs shaking her shoulders.

"The wound was thankfully shallow, but he will need to rest and let his shoulder mend in time. What's his name?"

"Albert, _Herr_." The boy was coming around. "Rest for how long? I need to work."

Anders studied his patient. His ribs were painfully visible. "How old are you, son?"

"This will be my fifteenth summer, Maker willing."

Poor thing, the mage thought, forced to be a man already.

"How did you get wounded? Darkspawn?_" _ Blight or not, the Darkspawn was an ever present threat at the Anderfels.

"No _Scatoloch,_ thank the Maker!" the boy's mother added rather hastily.

"It was the strangest thing!" Albert said. "I was trying to catch up with Siburg, when suddenly I saw a bright fire and felt a burning pain in my chest-"

"Siburg? Fire?"

"Yes, fire! Siburg's my cousin." He paused and frowned before continuing. "Although I don't know if you could really call it a fire. Strangest thing I ever saw, blue and purple and gold, like a spell-"

"Now now, son!" interrupted his mother, eyes slightly widening. Turning to Anders, she hastily said, "We're Maker fearing people, having nothing to do with Mages! My boy's still hallucinating, is all!"

"Sounds like it. Regardless, you need to lay down a while more so I can properly tend to your wound. And remember, you need your rest. Your family needs you to be strong for them. Healer's orders!" Anders said, forcing a smile. _Quiet, Justice. They are not our enemy. _

OoOoOoOo

The boy told the whole story later, holding a cup of steaming tea. He was on his way to the mines at the Merdaine when that "troublemaker", Siburg, had raced him to their destination and Albert was left back. It was then he saw the bright light and felt pain flare close to his chest. He remembered little more after that; Siburg came back to find out what had been taking him so long and carried him, unconscious and bleeding, back to town. The other boy had seen nothing of import. Anders rummaged his pockets and finally found a few silver coins to spare.

The mother had been reluctant to accept it. "You have already done enough."

"I insist. It's not much, but it should help a little." He pressed the coins in her hands.

"Maker bless you, _Herr_. We have little enough in the world, but I will never forget your kindness." She squeezed his hand and helped her son get up.

He had one sovereign left, enough to spend a night or two until he found what he came for.

The innkeeper led him into his room, closing the door behind her.

He made to take out his money bag and pay, but she raised her hand.

"No money, _zoubarâri_ ," she said.

Anders stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about, lady."

She scoffed at him, leaving the room key on the bed. "I've treated wounds before. I know a mage's work when I see it. That, however, was my dead brother's boy you helped." She laid a small tray of food on the nightstand and turned to face him. "Your secret is safe with me, but watch your step. Others may not be as forgiving to your kind." She opened the door to leave. "If there is anything else you need, let me know." And she was gone. After standing for a while, Anders laid on the bed, his trembling fingers kneading his temples and stared at the ceiling, shadows drifting and eventually lengthening, filling the room as he rose again. As he washed his hands and face in the dim light, he thought about the metal piece he had removed from Albert's shoulder. After taking it out of his pocket and cleaning the dried blood in the basin, Anders lit a lantern and studied the thing, feeling for any magical properties. It was cool to the touch, with a strange burnt smell he couldn't quite place and cylindrical in shape, although seemingly distorted from the impact. An engraved glyph was still partially visible. It was not a symbol he recognized. He traced it with his fingers and heard a soft clicking sound. _Strange_, he thought. It still didn't explain the fire the boy spoke of, however.He placed the strange object in his pocket again and reached for the now cold bowl of soup the innkeeper had brought. He would have to wait until tomorrow morning to head to the farm. Setting aside after a while his finished meal, he reached in the small sack holding everything he owned and took out the only memento he had of his mother, fingers softly tracing the embroidered flowers on the pillow.

OoOoOoOo

He set off at the first light of dawn, disguising his staff as a walking stick and affecting a slight limp to pass through the city guards. Even though he had been away for most of his life, his feet still remembered the path and took him there, seemingly on their own. As the sun finally broke over the drowsy clouds, he saw the small brown hut he had once called home. His pace quickening, he walked towards the door, finding it ajar. Anders frowned. No one in the Anderfels ever left their doors open if they could help it. He knocked. "Hello?" he called out. No one answered. Pushing the door open, he looked in.

There were clear signs of struggle in the empty house; broken chairs and knick knacks littered the floor. Clutching his staff, Anders tried to make sense of the situation. _Darkspawn?_ But his Warden sense felt nothing of the Taint. The fire in the hearth had recently died out and no dust had settled in. Next to the table, wooden bowls full of porridge were left untouched. On closer inspection, he found they were still warm. _They were caught by surprise then_, the mage thought, _and I just missed it_. _Caught by whom?_ There was little of value to be found. It was then his eyes fell on the untidy bed and he saw the embroidered flowers on the blanket. A sob escaped his throat. _What happened? I must find her, save her—_

The door creaked and he whirled around. Had he been followed?

It was then he heard the scampering of feet.

He ran back out and saw someone running across the field, fully cloaked.

"_Halt_!" he yelled, running after him. "_Halt!" _

The figure ran even faster, ignoring him completely, but Anders would not be ignored.

"You brought this upon you, fool!" he muttered and raising his staff, he cast a spell of sleep.

As his target fell unconscious in the dirt, a feral grin split his face.

"Time to get some answers!" Finally reaching him, he pulled the hood of the cloak and paused momentarily; _well, well, _he thought, a_nd I thought I was done chasing after girls._

OoOoOoOo

Anders had just finished tying her to the chair and was sitting in front of the fire, studying the dying embers, when he felt her jerk awake, her breathing coming out in short gasps.

"_It will do you no good_", he growled in Anderfelian, as he heard her trying to break free of the bonds. "_You better start talking, little girl._"

"Fuck you!" she spat and he turned around.

"Not from around here, I take it, sweetheart?" he said, a sneer touching the corners of his lips. "I may just do that, if you don't talk." An empty threat, but she didn't need to know that.

Her dark eyes widened and she went very still.

"Talk, or else." He drawled.

"Where is she? What did you do with her?" she blurted out.

Anders hesitated momentarily. That was his question to ask, not hers. "What game is this?"

"Andrea, you sick bastard! Did you bully her as well?"

"Who in the Black City is Andrea?"

"Don't pretend you don't know! You lured me here! Where is she? What did you do with her? Are you responsible for this mess?" By then, she was yelling at him, pulling against her bonds, as if _he_ was the one restrained.

Normally he would have been amused, but his head was beginning to hurt. Pinching his eyebrows, he said, "How in Andraste's name did I lure you here, girl? Are you wrong in the head? Or just lying? What happened here?"

"How the hell should I know?" she snapped, her high-pitched voice ringing through his ears. "I followed the tracking device, thinking I would find Andrea. I don't even _know_ where we are. If you're to blame for this… accident, you better let me go and help me find her or God help me, I will make sure you are sued within an inch of your life when we get back."

Anders blinked. "Tracking device? Sued? What are you talking about? And what do you mean by 'back'? Back where?"

And just like that, he saw a horrified change come over her face. She spoke, thankfully in a lower voice. "You mean you... you don't know."

"Know _what_?" Anders was losing his patience. "Either tell me what I need to know or by the Maker… people's lives are at stake!"

She was at a loss for words, it seemed. Finally, she said, "I... there has been a misunderstanding. We are both looking for answers in the wrong places, it seems. I am looking for someone, too. I fear for Andrea's life! Please… please untie me and I will do my best to help with your search."

He was torn between trusting her and leaving her in the place to rot, for all he cared. In the end, caution won over. It would not do for her to be found bound here, he thought. Stories of the rogue mage would spread like wildfire.

"Try anything and you'll regret it," he said and raised his hand. The rope binding her fell to the floor.

She stared at him, mouth open. "How did you do that?" she breathed, rubbing her wrists.

He was stunned. Was she daft? "What do you think? Magic. And if you even think of letting the Templars know, I will blast your empty head into the Fade."

"The Templars?"

That did it. "I have no time for this!" He turned around and walked out of the house.

He was halfway through the fields when he heard her shout, "Wait! _Wait, dammit_!" He continued walking, but she kept on running, finally reaching him and grabbing his hand.

He turned around and snapped, "Every moment I waste with you could be my mother's last. Either help me or begone!"

She ran her fingers through her rather short hair as a determined look crossed her face. She asked, "How long ago did your mother go missing?"

He stewed for a minute before answering. "No more than the first light, I think. There were still embers in the fire when I arrived."

"Were they taken by foot?"

He glanced about him before muttering, "Probably. I see no wheel trails."

She nodded and said, "I may be able to help you, then." She took out a strange thing out from a pocket, a small box of sorts with a glassy looking cover and buttons and pressed something, apparently waiting for something to happen. After a second, Anders was shocked to see the thing flare to life, green symbols and dots blinking on the glass. "What—"she raised her hand and stopped him, evidently focused on the flashing lights. She finally looked at him and said, "There seem to two groups of people, one larger than the other, moving away from us on foot. Their speed is relatively slow. I think we may be able to reach them one of them if we cut a shortcut through the fields and run. There's no sign of anyone else around."

Anders gaped at her. "How did you—"

"No time," she said, "I can show you later. Which group will we follow?"

He thought fast. "The smaller one."

She started running and he followed. As they ran towards the scant forest, she turned around and actually smirked at him. "I'm Rhys, by the way. You know, in case you need a name to threaten along with the face."

Chapter notes:

_Guot Morgan_ = Good morning.

_Scatoloch_ = Darkspawn.

_Zoubarâri__ = Wizard. _

Rhys is using a _very _updated version of a sonar range finder. The ones currently in use are very limited in turns of range, so this is not realistic at all. Same goes for the "tracking device."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**

Dragon Age I and II belong to Bioware.

All the copyrights associated with the world and characters of Dragon Age belong to them.

Only the ideas contained within this story are my property.

This is just for fun, not profit.

**Synopsis:**

Follows the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual AndersxOC. Yes, it's one of _those_ fics.

**OoOoOoOo**

_Chapter 2_

Once again, Anders found someone else leading the way for him. Apart from introducing herself, she was rather silent. Hadn't even asked for his name, and he hadn't volunteered the information himself. And _her_ name was- wait.

"How come you have a male name?"

After a moment, she turned her head to look at him. "My father never lost hope, I guess."

_Ah, an opening of sorts_. "Speaking of that, what were you doing by yourself in a stranger's house? And how did you come upon that -that _thing_ you hold in your hand?"

She blinked. "I was looking for my friend. I know," she said when Anders raised his brows, "and why would I find my friend at a stranger's house? I know I sound either crazy or a liar, but I'm neither." She made to speak some more, when the strange contraption she held at her hand let out a chirping sound, startling them both.

"Look," she said, pointing towards the distance.

Anders didn't know how or why, but the girl had been right. As they reached the top of a small hill, they saw a small group of four people forcibly dragged by two men, each holding a strange weapon of sorts, occasionally jabbing it into somebody's ribs to keep them going.

He scanned the small crowd, but they were still too far away to be able to make out the faces. He wasn't sure he'd recognize her at first sight, anyway. People changed in twenty years.

Behind him, Rhys whispered, "Here they are. See anyone you recognize?" she said, offering him a strange contraption of sorts.

"Is this supposed to help me see better? How do I use it?" he asked.

"Here, I'll show you—"

"Just tell me."

"Very well. Just put them over your eyes and look through them toward the group's direction."

He did, then got the shock of his life when he saw one of the burly guards close enough to count the hair on his chin. He dropped the thing as if burned. "What in Andraste's name is this?"

"A mechanical device. Binoculars."

"Bye-know-queue-larch." Anders repeated. "But it's metal, not wood. Fascinating. How does it work? Is it enchanted?" He could already see the Circle or Dwarven merchants eat it up and overcharge it for all it was worth.

Rhys grinned. "It's rather complicated for me to explain at the moment. Let me check again." She raised the _byeknowqueuelarch_ to her eyes. "Shit! Why are the captors holding _guns_?"

"They carry some sort of strange weapons," Anders said slowly. "I take it you recognize them."

"Yes," she said. "Think of them as bows, but with extremely small and fast arrows that can inflict fatal damage." She paused, a troubled expression pinching her brows. "This complicates things! We have to think of a way to disarm them without hurting the captives."

"I think I can help with that", Anders said in a low voice. "Stand back."

He used a little spell he had picked up from Merrill and grinned as the earth in the distance began to tremble. They heard screams as the whole group was entangled in the massive vines that sprouted out of the earth.

He heard Rhys mutter something inaudible.  
"What was that you said?" he asked.

She blinked. "Just thanking my lucky stars you didn't use that trick on me."

Anders was almost offended. "It's a _spell_, not a trick!"

"Trick or spell, my pants would be still be soiled and I don't have another pair handy."

"Pants?"

"Apologies, I meant breeches. Let's go." She bounced off and started running.

Anders couldn't help smirking as he followed her down the hill. It was then he saw _him_.

They picked the weapons the captors had dropped and set to helping the villagers. As Rhys freed the others from their bondage, Anders went to the man, who was standing a bit apart from the rest. _Ever antisocial, even when captive_, he thought.

"What happened?" asked Anders, while freeing a man with a grizzly beard. He willed his face to stay expressionless.

"We were getting ready to have breakfast and go to the field when they came in and forced us to follow them", the man said. "They would not tell us where we were going or what they wanted us for."

Anders noticed he was staring at him, intently, suspicious. _Try all you want, you old bastard_, he thought. _I bet you tried to push me out of your mind as soon as I was gone._

"Did they get everyone?"

"_Mein Kwena_." the man replied. His eyes were wild now, almost frantic. _Good._ "She had gone to the well to draw water. I heard screams from afar, but they captured me before I got the chance to go after her."

Anders couldn't help it. He closed his eyes as he spoke, lest the blue light he knew was there shined forth. "Should have taken better care of your family, _herr_."

The older man jumped as if struck, "Rich-_?_" he said, before Anders raised his hand.

Anders scoffed. "I stopped being called that a long time ago. About the time you gave me away in chains, as I recall." He opened his eyes and heard a gasp. _Good._

"What else could I have done?" his father said, fear coloring his voice. "What else was there for you? You are cursed! The barn-"

"Ah, yes, the barn. I was overjoyed to see that ugly thing rebuilt, next to your pathetic little hut. As for the cursed part, the Grey Wardens wouldn't have thought so, old man," Anders smoothly replied. _At least they hadn't thought so for a while_, he thought and felt the spirit in him stir once more in remembrance.

"The Grey Wardens?"

"Oh, yes. Not that I expected you to care enough for me to give me to them instead of chaining me to the Fereldan Circle. _Muoter_ would have done that, if you'd let her, but not you."

The man cast his eyes down, seemingly trying to control his emotions. Finally he spoke in a low voice. "Find her, boy. Bring her back to me. And for what it's worth, I never wished you harm."

"It's worth nothing to me," Anders said, turning away. He took a deep breath and walked back to the others. As he went to interrogate the captors, he met Rhys' questioning eyes. "None of your business," he said. She quickly looked away, her mouth a thin line.

The captors were work-for-hire simpletons, that much was obvious. Anders questioned them, nonetheless.

"It was a good deal!" one of them said, seemingly the oldest of the two.

Anders raised his brows. "Abducting people can be a good deal. So can killing them, or imprisoning them, should a reward be on their heads."

The man held up his hands in a peace-making gesture. His fingers were stubby, Anders noted. "Easy money, lad! All we had to do was move them from one location to the next."

"The weapons?"

"I barely know how these things work! We were given them along with the job. We nearly killed each other trying to figure out how the blighted things work. Ran out of darts fast, too. We used the last ones just to scare everyone. You wouldn't believe the noise-"

"Who was behind this? Who are you working for?"

"No clue. Shadowy figure in a dark alley. Doubt he was our employer, anyway. Got the impression the blighter was a servant himself. Seemed scared."

"Where were you taking them?"

"Cave in the Merdaine. Listen, boy... I have a family. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have mouths to feed."

"What about your friend here?" Anders gestured towards the other man.

"He's my, ah, cousin. Same deal as me. Were we to beg?"

"That's up to the ones you kidnapped to decide," Anders replied.

The man's eyes widened. "I'm telling you, we don't know anything else. Wait!" he pleaded as Anders started walking back to the others. "Andraste's tits! Wait! I know a little more! Let me go and I'll tell you!"

The other man chimed in, "What about me, you blighter?"

The mage kept walking.

"They'll use them for some kind of ritual!" the man all but yelled.

_That_ made Anders stop and turn back around.

The younger man gasped. "By the Maker, _his eyes!_—"

"_Speak,_" Justice said, voice deep and booming. "_Or die where you stand._"

"It's a – It's a ritual of some sorts! I heard the fucker talk to someone as soon as we were walking away!"  
"What did he say?"

"He – he said that once they had the subjects, they would be able to begin the _ex-pee-rainment_!"

"The what?"

"That's what he said!" the younger man confirmed. "I heard it too. Blighter thought he was being clever, using foreign words and whatnot. That's all, I swear on Andraste's pyre!"

The mage stood silent for a bit, eyes closed, sweat beading in his brow. Finally, he opened his eyes and said, "You will be taken to Nordbotten. Let the authorities there judge your fate."

"Anything you say, _herr_. _Anything_." The older one replied in a small voice.

"Oh, and another small thing," said Anders. "I will be visiting Nordbotten myself, eventually. And if I have a less than friendly welcome, I will know who to blame."

"Our lips are sealed,_ herr_. I will kill him myself if he says anything!" the cousin said to Anders' feet.

The mage's smile was cold. "Good. Save me half the work. Now tell me how to find that cave so you don't have to show me."

OoOoOoOo

"Poor people," Rhys said later. "Wonder if they made it to that city yet."

They were on their way to the cave. The sun was at its highest point and it was getting uncomfortably hot.

Anders didn't answer, lost in his thoughts. They had been walking for a while.

She spoke again. "The thugs seemed terrified of you, though." Didn't she feel the blighted heat?

"As they should be."

"Are you sure they told you the truth about the location of that cave?"

"They knew better than to lie. Scum like that only care how to survive and they were scared shitless, so yes."

"One of them kept talking about his pregnant wife, though."

"He was lying." He was sweating under his coat.

"How could you tell?"

"I can always tell."

The silence between them stretched and lengthened as the sun burned.

Finally, she spoke again. "It's funny, but I don't even know your name and we just saved a bunch of people together."

"Anders."

"Just Anders?"

"Just Anders. Do you always talk so much?"

"Depends," she said. "I can be almost cordial when I don't have to fish for answers like this."

"You are not fishing for answers," Anders replied, "you are fishing for attention and I am far too preoccupied with my own thoughts at the moment to give you any."

"Do you always have a stick in your ass? Or was it just because you met daddy dear back there? I heard, you know," Rhys snapped.

Maker, he was very close to losing control again. He shivered, sweat falling in his eyes, making them sting. "Stop."

"All I've done since we met is help. Why do you have to be such an ass—" she abruptly stopped and her eyes grew wide.

"_Anders didn't need your help and neither do I."_ His eyes turned electric blue; his skin was cracking open, light shining from within. He grabbed her arm.

She opened her mouth as if to scream, but no voice came out.

"_We do not care to know who you are or whence you came. You will be gone and bother us no more."_ He let go of her hand and she scampered away, terrified, and then ran in earnest, looking over her shoulder as she went.

Anders stood still and expressionless, watching her go, until she was a distant blur in the horizon. That's when he started screaming until his throat turned raw.

larch = a tree with tough, durable wood, hence Anders' confusion. Anders has this habit of trying to make unfamiliar words sound familiar, somehow.

Expeerainment = experiment, obviously!

_Mein kwena_ = my wife

_Muoter_ = Mother


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**

Dragon Age I and II belong to Bioware.

All the copyrights associated with the world and characters of Dragon Age belong to them.

Only the ideas contained within this story are my property.

This is just for fun, not profit.

**Synopsis:**

Follows the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual AndersxOC. Yes, it's one of _those_ fics.

**OoOoOoOo**

_Chapter 3_

A few hours later, Anders cursed under his breath as he walked. He would probably reach the Merdaine once this blasted midday heat subsided, he thought, just in time for the evening chill to envelop him as he made his way up the frozen slopes. _Just my luck, once again._

Although he tried to keep his mind blank, he couldn't help but regret the way he drove the girl away. But then again, it had been for the best. He couldn't blame Justice for this. Before merging with him the spirit, his friend had been fair, but not cruel. The Justice Anders met a long time ago would have never lashed upon the girl simply for being annoying.

But he wasn't Justice anymore, was he? No, he was _Vengeance_. And Anders was to blame.

He reminisced the day they had taken the decision to unite their forces, liberate all mages from the circle of oppression they had suffered under for generations untold. The memory of Rolan's broken body on his feet rose unbidden. Rolan, that bastard… and yet, still he felt bile rise to his throat at the memory.

He hadn't deserved dying like that, Rolan.

None of the people he had killed that day had.

There was so much blood in his hands…

It wasn't Justice's fault. He had been honest from the start. Anders was to blame. His anger at the Templars had twisted the spirit. If either of them had known...

But they hadn't.

He felt very old and very tired. He wasn't sure if the emotions were completely his own.

"It's not fair to you." Anders said out loud. "I will do _you_ justice and set you free. We did our part, you and I, for better or for worse."

He had expected resistance from the spirit, but found none. Instead, a deep sense of longing filled his head.

Justice was tired of being angry too, he realized.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, my friend." He said in a low voice.

He then heard a trembling whisper behind him. He didn't turn immediately.

"Anders…?" Rhys's voice said.

He slowly turned to face her, face expressionless. "You came back."

"I did." She replied. She seemed small, her frail shoulders hunched. "I… have nowhere else to go. My friend may be in that cave as well."

He studied her. She avoided meeting his eyes. She was afraid.

Resignation filled his chest. _Justice_.

"Rhys. Look at me." Anders said softly, using her name for the first time.

She lifted her glance and looked at him, eyes veiled.

"I'm sorry. For what it's worth." He said. "I haven't been myself for a long time. There is no time for either of us to explain, but know that I wouldn't have caused you harm willingly."

She seemed at a loss for words. Finally, she spoke. "No time," she agreed. "For either of us to properly apologize."

"If you head south from here, you will eventually find the city of Nordbotten. Go to the inn called "Grey Mountain' and tell the innkeeper you are a friend of the blond healer. She'll let you stay. You'll be safe there. Or," he continued as her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, "come with me to the Merdaine and if we do not find your friend there, I swear I will help you to the best of my ability. Stay safe or come with me," he finished. "It's your choice."

She didn't even consider the first option, it seemed. "I'll come with you."

Her elfin face was resolute. She had such a determined air about her that even he couldn't help but ask. "You won't ask about… before?"

She seemed startled by his question.

"Depends," she replied after a second. "Will you go blue-veined and violent again?"

He smirked. "Blue veined? I've never heard _that_ one before!"

She shuffled a bit, looking at her feet.

"No disrespect meant, you know, just—"

She stopped when he chuckled. "I'm just baiting you." Growing serious once again, he said, "…but I can't guarantee anything. I wish I could. Just try not to—"

"Piss you off again," she said. "Got it. Shall we move on?"

Well, Maker blast him, he was impressed. Even if she didn't know the whole story. Even if he wasn't sure he was impressed because of her courage or her idiocy.

"Very well," he said. "We'll be there by the beginning of the evening, as the crow flies. Let us go."

But Rhys touched his forearm. "Hey."

"Yes?" he made an effort not to snap again.

She seemed to consider for a moment, then continued talking. "This is for you. You seem to need it more than I do." She gave him something.

The mage raised a brow as he took the -thing. "What is this, now?" It was a small yellow box of sorts, shiny and hard, from some kind of material Anders had never seen before. Small wings of sorts were wrapped neatly on one side.

"See that big button?" She pointed towards a button that had a familiar symbol. Anders realized with a start that it was the same glyph he had seen in the piece he had taken from Albert's shoulder. He took it out and silently presented it to Rhys.

She looked at him, eyes wide. "Where did you find this?"

"I removed it from someone's shoulder," he replied. "He was close to the Merdaine. He said something about bright lights. What is this?"

She stood still for a moment, then spoke. "This explains why I was drawn to your location! _This_ is the tracking device I mentioned when we first met."

"And the glyph?" Anders asked.

"This is a general symbol for on and off. The bright lights... I have a suspicion, but I need to think it through first."

"Very well. Let us go."

"Wait. Press the button on the thing I gave you."

He held it sideways, as far away from the wings as possible, and pressed the button. A slight buzzing sound came from the box and the wings started rotating, soon becoming a blur.

"What is this?" Anders asked.

"That's a _fan_." Rhys said. "I figured you could use it. You were sweating a little, ah, before. Consider it a peace offering." She grinned. "Turn the wings towards your direction. It's harmless. But use it sparingly, it _will _run out of energy eventually."

Anders did and nearly moaned in delight as he fell a gust of wind hit him in the face.

He heard her laugh. "So, are we friends now?"

"Sweetheart," he said in mock seriousness as they began walking again, "We can paint each other's toenails any time."

It was his turn to laugh at her look.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**

Dragon Age I and II belong to Bioware.

All the copyrights associated with the world and characters of Dragon Age belong to them.

Only the ideas contained within this story are my property.

This is just for fun, not profit.

**Synopsis:**

Set after the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual Anders x OC. Yes, it's one of _those_ fics.

**OoOoOoOo**

_Chapter 4_

"We need a break," Rhys said.

"Now is not the time for that." Anders replied. "We are close."

"Close or not, you are about to fall down and I'm not feeling so fresh myself. At this rate, the only thing we will be able to do once we catch up to the group is collapse on the guards!"

Although he hated to admit it, she had a point. He was swaying with ignored exhaustion as he walked. A short rest would help replenish his stamina better than any rejuvenation spell.

Reluctantly, he stopped and sat on the edge of a large, flat stone that laid nearby. _A Tevinter ruin, probably. Can't throw a stone without hitting one._ "Just for a short while," he agreed. "Rest. I will keep guard."

She shook her head. "No. You could use a nap. I'll wake you up in a short bit."

He didn't argue. He laid on the stone as best as he could, his eyes closing of their own accord.

He woke up, looking at the cloudy sky. The sun had moved but little, it seemed. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked for Rhys.

She was sitting close by with a pen of sorts at her hand and a book on her lap, staring far ahead. She had discarded her cloak and a satchel laid close by. He sleepily wondered just how many things she had been carrying in there. He had felt the bag under the cloak when he had carried her back to the hut, but he didn't investigate. He should have, he now realized. There were so many things about this girl that didn't add up. The strange devices she carried, the secrecy, even her clothing, plain, black, but in excellent condition and from a dull, exotic material.

A thought rose unbidden in his mind.

_And what about the girl herself?_

She was strange. Although they seemed to have developed a rapport of sorts, she was a little too neurotic, the way her eyes shifted this way and that. He knew it had been desperation, not courage, that drove her back to him.

Although giving him the "fan" contraption (marvelous thing, that fan!) had been rather sweet.

She was much like her clothes, he thought. Plain, until you took the time to _really_ look.

_Right, _he scoffed to himself. _Now all I need to do is convince her that my initial threat of rape when we first met hid a sensitive heart, all along. __Next thing, we'll both succumb to passion and fly away from Thedas. Get a grip, you fool! Leave the poor girl alone. Have you forgotten what you've done?_

He _had_ forgotten for a moment. And that he could not allow.

He yawned loudly, the better to warn her, and sat up. "What are you doing?" he asked groggily.

"Staring at that." She pointed at the Merdaine and he saw Andraste's statue.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He said.

"Yes," she agreed. She didn't look at him, eyes still focused on the statue, a frown of concentration creasing her brow. "Who is it?"

"You don't know?" Anders asked, incredulous.

"Indulge me."

"That's Andraste, the Maker's prophet. This statue was built a long, long time ago. Around the time of the second Blight, if I am not mistaken."

She looked at him, face blank. "I see." She closed the book, put it in the satchel, and took out a small bag.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Anders slowly asked.

She avoided looking at his eyes. "It feels so _familiar_, somehow. But then again, we do have statues like that back home, too." She picked up the satchel by its straps and wore it as a backpack, then put on her cloak again. She hadn't answered his question.

He had to ask. "_Where_ are you from?"

She blinked. "No time for either of us to explain, remember? Bigger things are afoot. It's inconsequential to our current mission, anyway. Have this." She threw him the little bag.

He studied the small paper package. "What is it?"

"Food," she replied. "Nuts and dried fruits. Not much, but it's something."

"Why waste perfectly good paper to package rations?" At the mention of food, however, his stomach growled loudly and he groaned.

Rhys smiled and got on her feet.

"Don't you need to rest?" he asked, as he was gobbling down the mix. It was surprisingly good.

"I'll be fine," she replied.

Anders didn't press the issue. He got up, feeling much better than before. Patting a pocket, he felt a small bottle. Good. He would probably need that lyrium before the day was done.

"Let's go," he said. He stole a look at her and caught her eye. He cleared his throat, then said, "Thank you."

And she smiled at him again, her expression surprisingly soft. "Anytime," she replied.

OoOoOoOo

They were at the feet of the Merdaine when they saw the group going up.

"I see four guards and about fifteen captives. The guards have guns, too. I can't see anybody's face from this angle." Rhys whispered, holding the _byeknowqueuelarch_. "Can you do that vine thing again?"

Anders shook his head. "Not on this kind of terrain. What about the cave? Can you see if there's anybody else in there?"

She took out the box she had used earlier and pressed the glyph. After a short while, she said, "I can't be entirely sure, but it seems like there's no more than one person in the cave. What do you suggest?"

"We follow them into the cave and strike from the back."

"I…" she looked at her hands. "Strike, how? I have no bullets."

Anders guessed she was talking about the weapons they had taken from the two thugs.

"Here." He offered her his dagger. She made no move to take it.

"I don't know how to use that thing!"

He had no time for this "damsel in distress" antics! "You stick the pointy side into the enemy."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"You have never killed," he said. It was not a question.

"Of course not!" she said in an incredulous voice. "Have you?"

"Yes, I have."

She looked rather shocked, then dismayed.

"I don't know which cloud you fell from, little girl, but around here we work on a 'kill-or-be-killed basis,' he snapped. "So take it and learn how to play with it, fast."

She took the dagger, holding it awkwardly in her hand.

Anders rolled his eyes. "Just stay back and let me do the work." He took out the lyrium, opened the bottle and drank it in one gulp.

"You're ah, glowing a bit again."

"Don't worry. I'm just replenishing my magic."

"Magic. Of course. I think I'll just stay here while you rain fire and brimstone upon the poor fools, thank you very much."

He looked at her.

"What?" she asked. "Aren't I allowed to be sarcastic when faced with the potentially deadly unknown?"

"Of course you are. One couldn't possibly face possible death without cracking smartass jokes."

"My point exactly! Keeps me going."

"Enough of this. Let's go."

"Aye aye, captain!"

"I'm not a captain," he said in mock seriousness. She raised her brows. "Silly me, you were being sarcastic again. You have ways to go, you know."

"I'll try to absorb some of your wisdom, oh great one!" she sing-songed in a mocking tone.

He couldn't resist throwing back, "Who knows? You might enjoy it." He said, winking at her.

She snorted and they rose to follow the group.

OoOoOoOo

The edged closer to the cave's entrance, crouching and hiding behind the jagged rocks.

"Fall behind me," Anders whispered. _That's right,_ he thought. _Follow the mage as he bravely stomps into the unknown._

She silently followed him, dagger at hand.

They followed the distant footsteps as silently as they could, hearing the occasional loud curse and terrified screams.

After a while, they finally saw the dim light of torches ahead and moved to hide behind a large rock. They were right behind the group.

Rhys risked a look. "The guard's backs are turned", she breathed. "Shit!" She gestured for someone, presumably one of the captives, to be silent.

Staff in hand, Anders began to mutter under his breath.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" A guard yelled and they heard footsteps coming their way.

Rhys crouched in the shadows behind Anders.

The guard turned and saw them. "What—" Anders hit him in the head with his staff and he fell unconscious. It was too late though; his cry of pain had already alerted the others.

"_Scheisse_! They got Drogo!" Someone cried. The wall next to them began to crack as innumerable small pieces hit it with tremendous force. The sound was deafening.

"The guns!" Rhys shouted. "Be careful!" She grasped the gun from the unconscious guard.

They were out of time. Anders released the spell and they heard cries of surprise. The firing seized.  
"Now!" He yelled to Rhys and they came out of hiding.

The guards were still disoriented when he stroke. "_Zoubarâri_!" one of them screamed, just before he was hit with a fireball.

"Two more to go!" Anders yelled.

He heard the deafening sound again, felt a sharp pain in his calf and howled. He threw another spell and heard a yelp. The last guard! He had to find him before he—

Once again, he heard one of the strange weapons fire and almost clutched his ears. "Rhys!" he screamed, his heart beating fast and loud.

But Rhys was fine. The last guard fell down, a pool of blood growing around his chest.

"_Shit shit shit shit shit!_" She ran to him, still holding the gun. "Are you ok? I have a med kit for your leg," she said, her voice shrill again.

"You saved me," he said, half surprised himself.

"I—killed—" she stammered. Her eyes were wild, unfocused.

"He would have killed _me_," he stated emphatically, ignoring the burning pain on his leg. "Kill or be killed, remember?"

Tears started streaming down her face. "I killed him. I-I could have wounded him in the leg, incapacitated him, not –not kill—"

"_Shhh."_He held her like a child, wiping away the dampness on her cheeks with his fingers until she stopped whimpering.

"You did what you had to and for that, I am thankful. Now is not the time to break down, Rhys. You have to be strong."

"Strong. Yes." She nodded.

It was then somebody shouted, "Rhys? Is that you?"

She turned towards the villagers and gasped. "No way! Cortez?" Anders raised his brows.

She ran to the man, the shock of killing someone seemingly forgotten for the moment.

"A friend of yours, I assume?" Anders muttered.

"Cortez, I had no clue! How did you end up here? Why wasn't your tracker activated? Are you alright? Did you find Andrea?"

"Slow down, girl!" the man said. "I'm in pain. My head's swimming. Got any painkillers on you?"

"Yes, of course!" she said and after fishing around in her satchel for a bit, gave him a small white bottle. "I'm out of water, though."

"No worries," he replied, popping the bottle open and downing a pill.

Anders started to move towards them, when he saw her and stopped dead in his tracks.

She was crouched with some of the women, her eyes dazed as she took him in.

He went close, his voice coming out like shards of glass. "_Muoter._"

A terrible hope lit up in her face. "Richart? _Mein sun_?

"It's me," Anders whispered, his heart in his throat. "_Ich kam zurück, Muoter_."

Chapter notes:

_Scheisse!: _Shit!

_Richart: _Anders' name before he was taken by the Templars (after all, Anders was a nickname). Note that this is _not_ canon.

_Mein sun?_: My son?

_Ich kam zurück: _I came back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:**

Dragon Age I and II belong to Bioware.

All the copyrights associated with the world and characters of Dragon Age belong to them.

Only the ideas contained within this story are my property.

This is just for fun, not profit.

**Synopsis:**

Set after the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual Anders x OC. Yes, it's one of _those_ fics.

**OoOoOoOo**

_Chapter 5_

It was strange, looking at his mother's face again. Her face was lined, her blond hair mostly turned to white; but he knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would have recognized her anywhere. Her eyes, still the same brilliant blue he remembered, were glistening with tears.

He held her close and she cupped his cheek with infinite tenderness. He realized he was crying too.

"My son," she whispered, voice choked. "My son! I was not strong enough to keep them from taking you away!"

"Hush," he said, voice choked. "We are reunited and that's all that matters."

"Your poor leg…"

"A minor wound. Nothing I can't fix, Mother. I am a healer."

She laughed a little and kissed his hair. "My Richart..."

Rhys touched his shoulder, saying softly, "I'm sorry Anders…but we need to get these people to safety."

"Yes. Of course." He helped his mother stand up, wiping away the tears on her face.

"You need to go. I will come as soon as I am able. I must make sure no one else is in danger."

She shook her head frantically. "I will stay with you, _mein sun_."

He embraced her once more and said, "No one will separate us again, mother_._ This, I promise. But I need to know you are safe. Do it for me."

"I..." She was still weeping.

"I am strong now. I will endure." He stroked her hair, marveling at how fragile she felt at his arms. "Can I trust these men to take you back safely?"

"Yes," she said. "They were caught by surprise in their beds. I know each and every one of them. They are honest people."

"Very well," Anders said. He turned to Rhys. "Can you show to the men how to use one of these weapons?"

She nodded. "Cortez can."

"As long as we take it back once they're out of harm's way." Cortez said, looking pointedly at Rhys.

She looked away. "Right," she said, examining her fingernails.

"I thought you were looking for one person, not two," Anders told Rhys.

"So did I," she replied. "I had no idea about Cortez. How did you end up here, anyway?"

"Same way you did, I assume," the man named Cortez said. "I'd rather talk about it later. _In private_." He glanced at Anders. "Sorry man, nothing personal."

"Very well," Anders replied. "Any signs of the last man?" he asked Rhys.

"You mean the one I tracked before? I asked the guard you knocked down. He went to wait further down the mountain, a little too far to have heard anything, apparently."  
"Why did they stop here, then?" Anders asked.

"We heard them talking about preparing us." Cortez intervened. His eyes hardened and he looked at the bound guard. "He enjoyed it when some of the women cried, too."

Before Anders could stop him, he went over to the tied man and kicked him in the stomach. "That's payback, you sadistic bastard!" he spat, as the thug crunched in pain.

He turned around and said, "I'm ready to show them how to use the gun, and then I want to find the asshole responsible for all this and remove his teeth, one by one."

While Cortez was talking to the villagers, Anders asked Rhys, "What about your other friend?"

"Nowhere to be found." She said, sounding worried. "Cortez didn't see her too. God, I had no clue he had ended up in this place as well." She shook her head. "He wasn't wearing his tracing device. Only Andrea and I were."

Anders didn't understand. "'Ended up'? What are you talking about?"

She looked at him, seemingly trying to decide how to proceed. Finally, she muttered, "this is not something I expect you to believe."

"Try me," he said.

"Anders…we were brought here by accident."

"In the Anderfels, you mean?"

"No. I mean we were brought into this world by accident."

He stared at her. "You are still in shock."

"No, she isn't in shock." Cortez's voice had taken a hard edge. "She is just talking too much."

Rhys flushed. "We are out of choices, Cortez! What are we to do?"

"How about not telling the natives?"

"I am still here, you know!" Anders said, irritated.

"I know you are. That's the point!" Cortez snapped.

"Listen, Andrea is missing, this is not the place we thought it was and _I just killed someone_. We need all the native help we can get, otherwise we're screwed! I don't know if you enjoy the idea of looking at these steppes for the rest of your life, but I'm pretty sure the cavalry will not be coming anytime soon. So I'll talk and reveal as much as I feel I have to if it means getting anywhere."

"We came through a fucking mirror, Rhys! How the hell can anyone -"

"Wait," Anders interrupted, "A mirror? Big, heavy, ornamented, strange surface, not reflecting any light?"

Both Rhys and Cortez stared at him.

"You've seen it?" Rhys asked.

"Oh, yes," Anders replied. Andraste's sword… He tried to think.

"Sounds like an Eluvian. How do you know of it?" he asked.

"Some of our…ah…people found it. We had been studying it when the accident happened." Rhys said.

"Studying it?" Anders asked, incredulous. "Are you mad? That thing is dangerous!"

"No shit," Cortez said. "A little too late for that warning."

"If there is an Eluvian involved, these people need to get to safety now." Anders walked towards his mother, who was standing a little further away with the rest of the former captives.

"_Muoter_, you need to leave. Now. I will come as soon as I am able." He turned the man holding the weapon.

"Go and take the guard with you. Do with him as you will."  
"Yes, _herr_," said the man in a low voice. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you." He heard murmurs of thanks from the rest of the group, but everyone else avoided meeting his eyes.

"You are a mage." The man said in an apologetic tone. "We will not tell anyone, but forgive us our fear… even if we owe you our lives."

"Just go," Anders said and the man nodded.

He kissed his mother's forehead and watched her go, along with everyone else. Once their steps faded away, the three of them were left standing in the cavern, facing the path that led further inside the mountain.

"Your leg!" Rhys suddenly said. "How could I forget? Let me take out the med kit!—"

"No need," Anders replied. He took out his boot and raised his breeches until he could see his wounded calf. "See? It went through."

"Still, you must be in terrible pain, and we have to disinfect it!"

He stilled her reaching hand. "No." he focused some of his energy and created a ball of white light in his hand, then he carefully lowered it to his leg. When he raised it, no sign of the wound remained. "See?" he said.

As he put his boot back on, he noticed the other man looking at him, stunned.

"How the hell…" Cortez slowly asked.

"Long story," interrupted Rhys. "There is so much to fill you in!"

"We will talk later," Anders said. "First, we find the one responsible for this mess." Best not too think about their story, now.

"Hell yes!" Cortez said. "Just a sec." He picked up the guns, giving one to Rhys and offering the other one to Anders.

He shook his head. "No," he said, raising his staff. "I will be more effective using this."

Rhys looked at the guns in her hand, her expression veiled. Finally she said, "I'll put the spare in my backpack. Can you secure it, Cortez?"

"No reason," he said. "I'll just carry both of them. You keep the other one, though."

She nodded, eyes staring far away for a while, and then, snapping back to reality, she rummaged through her satchel, taking out yet another of her strange contraptions. She turned on a small red switch and light came out of one side.

"Dude, how did you end up with all this shit?" Cortez asked.

"Half the room came with me," Rhys replied. "I take it you were not that lucky?"

"Just the clothes on my back and whatever I was carrying at the time. Ran out of cigarettes, real fast. On top of that, I happened upon the bastards as they were on their way to the mountain. What did you do with the stuff?"

"Hid it, as best as I could. Let's go."

Anders didn't bother commenting on the newest mechanical miracle the girl had produced. Instead, he said in a drawling tone, "I wonder what other things are to be found in your world. Do you have flying dogs and controllable fish, perhaps?"

Cortez and Rhys exchanged an amused glance.

"You'd be surprised," Rhys wryly said, winking at him.

Cortez sighed. "Jesus, girl, do you always have to have the last word?"

"Enough," said Anders. "Let's go. Rhys, stay close and light our way."

OoOoOoOo

She had been walking close to him, casting inquisitive glances every now and then, so Anders wasn't really surprised when Rhys' soft voice broke the silent air.

"You have been separated from your mother for a long time?" Rhys asked.

"Since I was twelve years old," Anders said.

Her perpetual surprise at everything was mildly amusing. "Twelve! But why?"

"Remember your reaction when we first met? When I first used magic?" Anders said.

"Yeah, what's up with _that_?" Cortez interrupted.

"Welcome to the land of Oz," said Rhys. She waved away Anders before he could speak. "A joke from our world. Go on, though."

Anders raised a brow at her as he said, "Most people are terrified of mages. Add to that the fact that we are the easiest prey for demons to possess and you'll see why the powers that be deemed good and proper for us to spend our lives in Circles." _Until we finally snapped._

The footsteps behind him stopped abruptly. "Wait, did you just say demons?" Cortez asked.

"Keep walking, and yes, I did. We are the only people capable of traveling to the Fade consciously and as such, we are the ones most susceptible to its denizens." He examined his staff as he spoke, avoiding their eyes. "An abomination, which is the term used for a possessed mage, yields terrifying power."

"And what is a Circle?"

"Circles are communities, of sorts, for mages, supervised by the Templars, the military branch of the Chantry -our religion," he clarified, before Cortez had a chance to ask again. In reality, a prison of sorts where basic liberties are denied to my kind."

"That sounds terrible…" Rhys said.

"It is, but the old way of doing things is crumbling as we speak. The Circles will not be a reality for much longer."

"What do you mean?" Cortez asked.

"War has broken between the Chantry and the Circles of mages. Things may be better or worse, but they will never be the same."

"So that's the real reason you were supervised."

Anders scoffed at the other man. "Supervised? More like chained. I tried to escape seven times during my time in the Circle. Each time, I was dragged back, like an animal."

"Well, sorry to say this, but if you pose a danger to other people—"

"Anyone can become demented and dangerous when he is denied basic human liberties!"  
"But not everyone can be possessed by a demon. You said that yourself." He wished the other man would let the subject drop.

Cortez apparently didn't know when to quit.

_Calm, Justice! If what they say is true, he knows nothing of this world._

Voice rising steadily in anger, Anders said, "Mages turn to blood magic because it's the last resort they have against being maimed, raped, tortured! We are allowed _nothing_. No lovers, no families. Magical power has been used and abused, much like the people who wield it."

"Not so loud! What if we're close?" Rhys whispered.

Cortez threw Rhys a glance and nodded. "Sounds like a monastery of sorts," muttered. "Sad business, but necessary if you want to contain the magical individuals and prevent accidents. I understand it to be an incurable condition."

Anders felt a cold rage build inside him. _Incurable. A curse, not a blessing. _A wave of indignation rose from both him and Justice.

"Oh no, there _is_ a cure." His cold smile didn't reach his eyes. "There is a way out of being a mage. It allows for the magical part of yourself to be cut off, so to speak."  
"So? Why isn't it used on the majority?" Cortez asked expectantly.

"Because when you become Tranquil –that's the name they use, by the way- not only do you lose your magic, but you are also stripped of all emotion and real sense of self. Hope, pain, fear, love…it's all gone."

"My God," Rhys whispered. "They cripple you."  
He ignored her, burning holes with his eyes on the other man. "All it takes is one fanatical Templar in a position of power for you to never feel anything again. Imagine waking up every day for no real reason, other than to serve, never feeling love or hurt or hope, for the rest of your life. Imagine being an empty vessel that walks and talks and works and that's all you can ever aspire to be." He laughed bitterly. "Why, I would have chosen it even if I was not _cursed_ to begin with."

Cortez flushed. After a few seconds, he finally talked "I'm…Look, I'm sorry. All you have done so far is help, and I've been an ass. It's been a rough day, is all I can say." He extended his hand.

"Don't be so quick to judge my kind again," Anders said in a low voice. But he clasped the other man's hand, nonetheless. Next to him, he felt Rhys touch his shoulder and he almost leaned into her touch. Before he had the chance to reflect further on this, however, they heard a voice.

"Who-who is there? Can someone help me?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:**

Dragon Age I and II belong to Bioware.

All the copyrights associated with the world and characters of Dragon Age belong to them.

Only the ideas contained within this story are my property.

This is just for fun, not profit.

**Synopsis:**

Set after the events of Dragon Age II. Spared by Hawke after destroying the Chantry and hunted by everyone else, Anders flees to the only place that he ever called home... only to find himself in a situation that once again gets out of hand. Eventual Anders x OC. Yes, it's one of _those_ fics.

**OoOoOoOo**

Chapter 6

"Wait, what? Another hostage?" Rhys said.

"Be careful!" Anders urged. "It could be a trap. Rhys, fall behind Cortez and me."

She made to talk but Cortez cut in, "Anders, right? Maybe you should go first, you seem to be more -er- familiar in this kind of situations."

Anders wordlessly walked forward.

As they walked closer to the voice, they began to see light once again.

They cautiously entered a massive cavern, eerily lit from glistening leeches.

In the center, in the dim light of a torch, Anders made out a large mirror and a hunched man who yelled, "Please! Don't hurt me!"

"The mirror!" Rhys gasped.

_Oh no_, thought Anders. "That's an Eluvian, all right." He remembered Merill yapping about those. He remembered _her_ Eluvian, too.

They went closer to the man, who kept on screaming.

"By the Maker, we will not hurt you!"

The man yelled, "He's left me—" but then one of the gun contraptions made that deafening sound and he fell down.

"_What the fuck_, Cortez?" yelled Rhys, and then she screamed as the gun fired again.

Anders whirled around and saw Rhys fallen to the ground, clutching her stomach in a pool of rapidly expanding blood, and above her Cortez, now pointing the gun at him.

Anders growled, his narrowing eyes a promise of pain. "Why, you blighted fool?"

But Cortez just smirked. "Oh, he tried to stop me, your little friend," he said. "Turns out I was a little too strong for him."

_Maker, no. Why didn't I see this coming? _"Demon," Anders breathed.

"Ding ding! Correct, as our charming lady would say. Oh, cheer up my girl," he told down the moaning girl. "It's not an immediate fatal wound. Play nice and all you're looking at is a few hours of pain."

"She didn't know," Anders said. "Why kill her?" he cast a desperate glance at Rhys, willing her to stay alive.

"Kill her? Oh, no. I just meant to incapacitate her. Amazing things, these guns. Did you know that a stomach wound can be immensely painful, but not necessarily fatal? No, I mean to persuade her to collaborate. You, however…I don't have much use for you or your little spirit friend."

He felt an urging from Justice. He needed to gain time.

"Collaborate for what? And why not possess a mage? Since when can demons possess non-mages?" _Justice, whatever you do, do it fast!_

Cortez, or what used to be him, chuckled.

"Oh, _that_? That's just a matter of preference, you know. What with mages being susceptible to us and all. It is not an exclusive club however, by no means. Why, I was just in that poor whining merchant who had never actually seen a mage in his life! But the real prize was either my dear Cortez, or pretty little Rhys here." He leered at the girl.

Anders felt bile rise to his throat. He suppressed it. "But _why_ them? What do you have to gain? What did he have to gain from this?" He gestured at Cortez's body.

"Gain? Cortez would had no clue what got into him, if you will forgive my pun. See, our friends here don't have any natural resistance to being possessed, as opposed to the peoples of Thedas. Oh, haven't they told you yet?" the demon chuckled amiably as Anders blanched. "Oh, well. I might as well tell you how it all came to be. I'm terribly pleased with the way things came out and you'll be leaving us soon."

Anders recovered, narrowing his eyes. "A pride demon, I see," he drawled.

The creature bowed slightly. "One and the same! Although we don't call ourselves that way, you know. What with being top of the figurative food chain in the Fade. Speaking of which, what of that little spirit friend of yours? How did he end up taking space in your handsome frame?"

He had to gain more time. "I invited him in. But my story's far less interesting than yours. How did you know about these people?"

The demon in Cortez smiled a little. "Invited him in? How _romantic._ You know, I can just feel dear Cortez's soul screaming to be let free, myself. Ah!" he sighed melodramatically, "music to my ears. Now… let me ask you something. Think of a world where no one believes in magic, possession, or the Fade. Imagine you're one of a kind and everyone else is ignorant of your true nature. Where you could be _free. _I'm pretty sure you could relate to that, hmm? Has he told you, I wonder?" he said, turning to Rhys again. "About the way he murdered hundreds of innocents and started a war? I wonder if you would like him quite so much, then."

Rhys gasped, coughing blood. "What...how…."

He ignored her, turning to face Anders again. "Nicely done, by the way. If I didn't already have a chosen vessel, I would have kicked your worthless master out and possessed you myself. However…priorities." He shrugged his shoulders, chuckling.

_He doesn't know yet. _"How did you find out about their world?" he asked. "Where is it?"

"Hm…I think it was about ten or twelve human generations ago. I was controlling a Tevinter mage at the time, when we came upon a pristine, untouched Eluvian, connected to a second mirror whose location was unknown. I studied it as much as possible, and one fatal day, as my body laid dying by an idiotic ambush organized by some slave meatbags, we used our life's blood and finally glimpsed an echo of another world through the connected device. What magnificent cities! I could be free there to do as I please, live as I would! Free of competition, it would be a kingdom ripe for the taking. But before I had a chance to learn more, the magister was dead and I was trapped for _millennia_" Cortez's face twisted into something hideous before schooling his thoughts again and resumed his saccharine smile, "until your little friend Merill came knocking for help. I gave it to her…and I was free once more."

Anders gasped. "Merill? What does she have to do with all this?"

"Oh, didn't she tell you? She used blood magic, trying to cleanse the Eluvian she had. I only asked for my freedom from the little statue I had spent a human eternity in, and she gladly gave it to me."

"And what about the Eluvian she had? Why not use that?" Anders asked.

The demon scoffed. "Oh, that piece of junk? Hopeless. Not to mention _my_ Eluvian had been well hidden in the Anderfels for ages and I had high hopes of finding it intact. I possessed _that_," he carelessly gestured at the dead man's body, "and off we were to find our fortune. And did we ever find it! My mirror laid untouched and to my endless delight, the other mirror was in close proximity of people too! I knew the time to act was at hand. I waited until I was strong enough once more and, as soon as I was able, I brought over as many people as I could. I was a little impatient though and the process was less than perfect, as they ended up _anywhere_ but here. One of the three I lured may have even ended in another time altogether. Oh, well! I'm still a little rusty, it seems."

Rhys sobbed. "Andrea…" she said, before losing consciousness.

_Maker, no, _ Anders thought, d_on't die on me, too._

"Andrea this, Andrea that. Oh, _get over it already._ Anyway, I thought they had died in the process, and so I started gathering ingredients to try again. Imagine my delight when _you _showed up!"

"But…I don't understand," Anders said. "Why did you need someone from the other world in the first place? Why not step over using your former host's body?"

"You think I didn't try?" Cortez's face twisted into an ugly sneer for a second before continuing to talk in a nauseating sing song voice. "I discovered, however, that in order to cross the sea between the worlds, I needed a human vessel from that other plane. And so my plan came to be. All I need now are the final ingredients to power my departure and I'll be gone from this shithole forever."

_Wait, what?_ "Ingredients?"

"Yes. That's the inconveniencing part. I may now be able to cross the sea, but I will need…a raft, so to speak. The mirror seems to resist my efforts otherwise. No worries though; I think the Anderfels should be enough. No one will miss this place, anyway!"

The mage's blood froze. He asked, disbelieving, "you mean…_people?_"

"Of course, silly! What else are you _humans _good for? It's unfortunate you won't be around to see any of this, really. I was rather amused by the way you manipulated your friends back in dear old Kirkwall. But now it's time for us to say our farewells."

_Now._

Anders felt his blood boil, as electricity crackled through his skin, making his hair stand on end and his teeth rattle. He swam in the sea of energy and was lost.

"You're kidding, right? What does your master hope to do? I'm far stronger than he will ever be!"

"_You are correct," _Justice said._ "But unlike you, I will sacrifice myself to make things right."_

"_What!—"_

The mage's spirit floated close to the ceiling and watched, as Rhys was laying lifeless on the cave floor.

His physical body was raised off the floor, trembling like a torn page in the wind. The demon fired the gun repeatedly, but to no avail; the bullets were derailed without causing harm.

Anders heard his own voice. _"You will cause harm no more,"_ as he saw a blinding beam of blue energy crack open through his mouth and eyes and envelop Cortez's body.

"You _idiot!"_ The demon shrieked. _"You will kill us both!"_

The mage's body slumped to the floor, as the demon began to scream.

The last thing Anders heard before being dragged through a black tunnel was his own voice. _"Then so be it."_

OoOoOoOo

_Why am I alive?_

Anders took a deep breath, wincing as he felt his muscles groan. Beneath the pain, he felt a tangible sense of loss. Justice, he realized. The ever present hum in the background of his mind was... absent.

_What is this?_

As he slowly sat up, the dim blue light of the cave's leeches revealed two motionless figures close by and closer still, a dead man next to a dark mirror where no light reflected at all.

The Eluvian. _Rhys!_

His eyes snapped open and he stumbled towards the girl's unmoving body.

"Maker's mercy, no!" He pressed his ear in her mouth and seized her wrist. After what seemed an eternity, he detected her fainting pulse.

He wouldn't let her end up in yet another world if he could do something about it.

He held her head in his lap, hands shaking; he didn't notice. "You will no doubt tease me about this, but it is the only way to keep you here." He was mumbling to himself, trying to focus. "You'd probably joke about it and then cackle like a crone." He still had some energy left that would suffice for what he was about to do. "Your sense of humor is terrible, by the way…hopeless, really." He drew from his secret place of power, reaching at it with his fingers and letting it traverse upwards in his body, wondering in his face, his eyes, and finally settling at his mouth. _Here goes,_ he thought. Slowly bringing her face close, he parted her chapped lips and brushed them with his own, giving her some of his own life force.

She tasted of iron _-blood, _he realized, his stomach lurching at the thought_-_ and fruit. His fingers clenched a little around her arm.

The moment went on forever. He felt as if he was drowning once again in lake Calenhad and she was that elusive freedom that had long escaped his grasp.

Minutes seem to drag by as he slowly waited.

Finally, he felt her fingers lightly grab his robe and he opened his eyes to find her staring at him, full of wonder and something else he could not define.

"You're hurt, but you'll live," he emphatically stated, more to himself than her.

She softly drew breath and whispered in a voice so low Anders could barely hear her,

"Consider us even."


End file.
